


The Education of Sophia

by Evil_Sapphyre



Category: Cinders (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3512162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Sapphyre/pseuds/Evil_Sapphyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-game</p><p>When Cinders disappears after the Grand Ball, the Prince finds himself in a position of still needing to find a Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Education of Sophia

_Well, I certainly did not expect to be at yet another masked ball quite so soon. Why could Mother not let me stay at home this time?_  Sophia sighed as she stepped further into the gardens, watching the festivities from a far. The last place she had wanted to be was back at the Palace, in the same dress that was just a tad too tight, having to feign interest in the empty-headed babble of the rest of the nobles.

_If only Mother would listen to my pleas. What point is there for me to be here? Gloria is the pretty one. Gloria is the one expected to marry the finest husband. I, on the other hand, am meant to just hide away in my room. With my books. Why did Cinders have to go and ruin everything?_

That night, two weeks ago, Sophia had been certain that Captain of the Guard Perrault had been there to take Cinders back to the Palace so she could be Queen. Anyone with a pair of eyes at the last ball could tell that Prince Basile had been more than enamored with her and her dress. Certainly, Basile had been charming enough towards Sophia as well, but did she really think Basile had been honest with his comments when he spoke with her?  _No, nothing but lies under the sheen of civility and empty flattery._  
  
Except Cinders and the good Captain had disappeared after they left her house. There were rumors about seeing them heading away from the Town, on foot, together. _Which certainly changed things for us all_. Sophia was sure that the sudden disappearance was why Prince Basile had called all the nobles for yet a second masked ball. Time for a second chance for the girls to throw themselves at his feet.  
  
Again, Sophia had no idea why Mother insisted on her being there. Sophia made it apparent to the Prince at the last ball that she had no inclination to be a dutiful wife and play at Queen. Let him have someone like Gloria instead. But Mother had suggested that perhaps some minor lord, or rich merchant, might take a fancy to her instead, so Sophia would be going, and that was the end of that.

Echoes of the music drifted into the far reaches of the garden where Sophia had wandered.  _If only I had brought my book with me. I bet Emily would be having a grand time with Rickard at this ball. Not that any of it would be suitable for the eyes of all the guests._  A smirk played about her lips as she gazed at one of the statues, shadowed amongst roses.  _Now wouldn’t that have been a riot to see here…_ _  
_  
“Now what could be so fascinating about this statue when you can barely see it?”  
  
The smirk fell from her face, and her eyes widened as she darted a look over her shoulder. A tall, lean figure walked her way, cloaked in a silken navy coat, embroidered in gold. His long black hair was swept back in a rather simple, yet somehow dashing ponytail, and even in the pale moonlight, his blue eyes twinkled. “I beg your pardon, my Prince?” She wasn’t sure how she managed to not stammer those words, as she felt her heart in her throat.  
  
“You, my Lady, seemed rather amused with this poor statue back here. I was trying to figure out just what could be so captivating when it’s quite hidden.” Basile stepped closer, the soft clack of his cane tapping against the stone pathways. “Were you thinking of giving the poor statue a good lashing of your tongue?”  
  
There was a slight mirth to his voice, but Sophia felt her back stiffen and the smile slip back across her lips. She let her gaze linger over the Prince for a moment before looking back to the statue and its darkened features. “I would, but I fear that it would fall upon the same deaf ears as my last…”  
  
A soft chuckle preceded more steps as Basile stepped up next to her. “I do hope you are not referring to me. I assure you, my Lady, that I heard every dulcet word you uttered at our last encounter.”  
  
“If that was the case, why are you here now?”  
  
“Perhaps I have yearned for more of your sharp words, my dear.”  
  
A scoff passed her lips. “Oh yes, I am sure that you have. Why not a day must have passed since our last entanglement that you have not been forlorn with the regret over not hearing my sweet voice.”  
  
“You do yourself a disservice, my Lady. Any gentleman here would be honored to be in your presence.”  
  
“Did someone spike the punch, my Prince?”  
  
“Are you intentionally trying to vex me, my Lady?”  
  
Sophia laughed, tilting her head back slightly. “Perhaps we should drop these pretenses. I assure you that I am no proper Lady.”  
  
Basile reached forward, his hand cradling her chin for a moment. “You are a beautiful, intelligent, and, in your own unique way, charming. You appear more than well read. How is this not a proper Lady?”  
  
Heat flushed her cheeks at his words, and the lingering sensation of his hand against her face made her heart skip, if but a bit. _Is this genuine? Or more charades of a well practiced courtier?_ There was only way to find out.  
  
“If my Prince but knew the books in my education, I doubt you find me such the prim and proper Lady.”  
  
Basile chuckled, something soft and light. “You are persistent in proving me wrong. Do tell then. Show me that you are anything but the lady I see before me.”  
  
An almost wicked grin spread across her face, and Sophia let one finger curl along the ends of her blond hair, twirling it ever so slightly. “Well, in my latest book, I have been learning of a most impressive art form.”  
  
“Art is a truly noble and suitable form of study, my dear.”  
  
Sophia let her hand drop to her side and moved closer to the Prince, so that her body was mere inches from his. “You should have let me finish, my Prince. The impressive art form that I have been studying is…” She leaned forward, until her mouth was next to his ear, and she could smell the rich mix of leather and spices that lingered about him. She was quite certain her breath was tickling against his ear too. “Fellatio.”  
  
A sharp intake of breath from Basile made Sophia giggle with glee in her mind. “Sophia!”  
  
“I told my Prince I was no proper lady.” She pressed her lips against his ear, in the briefest of kisses. “Perhaps now you will believe me….”

With one grand sweep, Sophia turned to leave the Prince in his garden, happy in the knowledge that she should have shattered whatever imaginary portrait of her he had built. Even if a tiny part of her ached with regret.  
  
She had only managed to get a few feet from the Prince when a hand wrapped around her arm and spun her back around. Before she could utter a sound, Basile’s mouth was upon hers with a crushing force. One hand wound its way in her hair, holding her tight to his body. His tongue forced her lips apart and plunged into her mouth, exploring, tasting, conquering. Heat poured through the layers of clothes as she was pressed against him, and an unknown ache spread through her core, making her gasp against his assault.  
  
Basile pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers; his breath ragged. “You, lascivious, minx. Do you not know the effect, the spell, you have over me? You cannot torture me in this way.”  
  
“Torture?”

He pressed another fierce kiss against her lips, shorter, but enough to make her gasp again for air. “Yes, torture, tease, torment me with your words and ways.”  
  
“I am no one but myself, my Prince.”

“Basile. If you are but yourself around me, Sophia. Then I shall be not but Basile around you.” The hand still entangled in her hair relaxed its vice-like grip, combing his fingers through its length before sliding his hand to cradle her face.  
  
“No one will ever let us just be Basile and Sophia.”  
  
“There are none but us here now, my dearest. There need not be any pretenses.”  
  
In the distance, she could still hear the orchestra playing dancing music for the guests of the ball. How long before one of them came looking for the Prince? Before whatever dream she was in came crashing down into reality, and whatever fancy words he uttered were proven to be untrue?  _I may as well make certain to sully my good name as much as possible then. I’ll never have to be paraded about at one of these events ever again._  
  
“Then let us make the most of this while we can.” With as much grace as she could muster, she sank to her knees in front of Basile.  
  
“My God, Sophia, what are you doing?”  
  
She grinned up at him, hoping he did not notice the nervous swallow, before she leaned forward, until her breath would be hot against the crotch of his pants. “Why showing you my education, Basile.”  
  
“You will sully your dress down there. What will the people think?” His voice had taken on husky, strained note.  
  
She pressed her mouth against the rising bulge in front of her, until she heard a sharp hiss. She then pulled away and looked back up to him. “I will simply tell them that I tripped over my own two, klutzy feet. It will be far more believable to them than any truth.”  
  
Doing her best to steady her hands, she began to unlace Basile’s breeches. His hands covered hers, stopping her fingers. “Sophia, what if someone wanders this way?”

“Then, it makes this all the more adventurous.” For a moment, she thought he’d refuse her, and maybe she hoped he would. Her act had gone a lot farther than she had originally intended, but his hands relaxed against hers and then quickly undid his own laces. He shifted ever so slightly until the breeches fell just enough to expose the entire length of his penis, hard and pale in the moonlight of the garden. Her mouth went dry as she drank in the sight of him. Dark curls encircled the base of the shaft, making the pale skin even more stark in contrast.  
  
With a lick of her lips, she leaned forward, placing a soft kiss against the head of his cock, and then a second, followed by a quick flick of her tongue. Then, just as Basile shifted in impatience, she wrapped her mouth around the tip, rolling her tongue around him as he slid past, tasting the smooth, silky salt that clung to him. His breath hitched, and she did her best to slide her mouth along his length. Every movement, taking a bit more of him. His hands slid through her hair, taking hold and aiding her in finding a rhythm with the shifting of his hips.  
  
She felt her own breath hitch, her own heart speed up, with every motion. Heat searing between her legs, her small clothes felt soaked through, and she wished his cock was thrusting down there rather than in her mouth. Wrapping her lips tighter about him, she did her best to work her tongue around his shaft as he slid in and out, until she felt a sudden jerk of his body. She heard him growl and his hands tightened in her hair, tugging her head back with force and letting his cock slide even deeper in her. She gasped as the thick liquid filled her mouth, salty and sweet, and it was everything that she could do to swallow it quickly down, small trickles of fluid trailing down her chin.  
  
As they managed to disentangle themselves from one another and straighten their clothes, Sophia could not help but smile to herself. There was certainly no doubt now that the Prince would never see her as a proper lady, as no true and noble woman would ever do such things, least of all where they could be stumbled upon by anyone.  
  
“And what bemuses, my enchanting Sophia, now?” He fished a handkerchief from his coat and offered it toward her.  
  
She gratefully took it, and she did her best to dab away the evidence on her face. “Just that I believe I have proven my point.”  
  
“That you are no  _proper_ lady?”  
  
She nodded and offered the handkerchief back to him. He merely shook his head.  
  
“My, dear, darling, Sophia. All proper ladies have their dark secrets. This one, shall be ours.”  
  
He smiled, a smug thing, as she was sure confusion appeared across her face. He then stepped forward, pressing his lips to hers, in a much more chaste fashion, before whispering. “The next time, I shall show you one of my arts.”

He then stepped back, grabbing hold of one of her hands. He brought the hand to his lips, the touch lingering for but a second. Then he was gone, disappearing back to the ball, Sophia staring with wide eyes after him.  _What have I gotten myself into?_


End file.
